You were born in ninety-nine when I was struggling with my fears
Looking for my voice and words, feeling old before my years
In a web of angst and anger I did not know how to flee,
Not allowed to speak my feelings, you were there to speak for me.
You spoke up when I fell silent, not afraid to lose your mind
since you had already lost it, while I feared what I might find
in the world behind my forehead, where the voices spoke to me
and black sparks of lightning sparkled, you were all I could not be.
You were free in ways I wasn’t, Maudlin, you were real to me,
I admired you for courage, you were all I dared not be.
You told folks you lived in Oxford, in a psychiatric ward,
called yourself a loon, in short used all the words I’d not afford
for myself, my fears, my feelings, you were you, you were at peace
not afraid to share your sentiment, locked within, but holding keys.
All you took was a computer, access to the internet,
both still new the year I met you, but both not all too hard to get.
You used ICQ and e-mail, had a website, had a voice,
and your poems were an outlet when my head was full of noice.… Weiterlesen